Hellsing: Rescue, Die, and Repeat
by Shadow Wolf22
Summary: Takes place in the anime world. After Integra, Alucard , and Ceres are imprisoned, things look bleak. But the Hellsing Organization will get some unexpected help from the queen mum and possibly find out the end is near.
1. Chapter 1

The night was beautiful, especially if you were a blood sucker! A smooth smile inched its way across Alucard's features as he stood in the dark of the dungeon cell, his back to his master. She would take his bait this time, Alucard was sure of it and the thought delighted him, the ancient vampire couldn't wait. There was so much fun to be had tonight.

"Alucard." Integra's voice was as usual, sharp with distaste and anger. The anger was unfocused, but since Alucard was there and it needed an outlet, it affixed tight.

"Yes, my master..." Alucard answered his voice smooth, amused, and coy. Normal fare for the undead frankly. Alucard smiled then and Integra frowned.

Taking a deep breath, the spectacled woman regarded the vampire with a pinched gaze. As she did, her hand slid closer toward the silver cigarette case that lay on the bed, filled with her favorite cigars. Opening the case and removing a cigar, Integra spoke around the sweet tobacco flavored smoke.

"Alucard, what have you discovered?" She asked, ignoring his question from moments ago.

This brought a brighter smile to the face of the vampire.

Yes, he would have her soon. Not so long ago, Integra wouldn't have ignored his question, and not too long ago, she would have cursed him. She would have flushed that cinnamon red that came with her delicately colored skin tone and she would have told Alucard clearly, she would have given him a sharp and resounding, No!

Now, though, she ignored the question, as if Alucard would suddenly stop asking it. Not going to happen. No.

Looking, inclining his head downward so that he could more clearly see her face and her eyes, Alucard smiled at the head of the Hellsing Organization and the last remaining member of the Hellsing bloodline.

"I have found nothing my master."

Integra's skin flushed with annoyance. She looked almost as if she would tremble with anger, as if she would truly lose her control. Then just as quickly she was comprised, she took another slow breath and she snapped.

"Explain!"

For a moment Alucard considered not answering, to simply allowing all her willfully forced composure to tear away, to give him a wound, but reconsidering, he said simply.

"I cannot go far enough to find anything. These humans are very clever, they have had the outer walls blessed and they still hold written prayers. I cannot cross them; they are made with Paladin magic. A disgusting, white washed attempt at the dark arts."

Integra lifted an eyebrow at this.

"So let me get this straight Alucard. We are trapped in this cell, you and I. With your police girl next door and none of us are capable of escaping?"

Alucard's smile widened at the "you and I" and he gave a slight nod.

"That is correct, my master."

Integra fumed. Alucard smiled at her and to himself. He truly didn't think it would be long now. Soon it would be done.

"You sure this plan is fool proof right?"

"Right?"

"What do you think, Jon. Would I send us into a spot like this without a plan?"

"Is that a trick question?" Jon replied, looking at the wiry little man sitting in the driver's seat in front of him.

"Well thanks, thank you very much for that little vote of confidence. And here I was thinking you doubted my skills."

"Jeremy, I don't doubt your skills."

Jeremy smiled. His face was like the rest of him, thin and long. He was a young man, maybe mid-twenties. He had short blond hair that stopped at his ears and was cut as if it were longer. It had been longer, but long hair was sometimes lost to occupational hazards. With Jeremy, it had been fire, and so the cut, but his big blue eyes were bright portals all alight with humor and thoughtfulness.

Jon, just hoped that Jeremy's thoughtfulness was all about the mission. It was gonna be a hell of a task rescuing the entire remaining Hellsing Organization. Actually, as Jon thought about it, it was probably gonna be a bitch.


	2. Chapter 2

((Hello folks, allow me to apologize for the previous chapter, I didn't read over it as I should have. Forgive the mistakes.))

Security was looking pretty tight and Jon was wondering how anyone was going to get in as he sat atop a tower wall that had avoided destruction the previous night in Alucard's showdown with the foreign vampire Incognito.

The Tower of London had seen better days, for sure, but that wasn't the problem right now. Nope, taxes would probably fix the tower. Good as new, yeah right. But Jon's real problem was getting into the tower and going down into the dungeon. How the hell does one pull that off?

"Eh, Jon. Jon, you hear me?" Jeremy's voice was loud over the communicator fastened in his ear and Jon flinched just a bit, having to bring the binoculars he had been using down from his eyes so that his other hand could steady him.

"Yes, damn it. I can hear you Jer, don't talk so loud. We are trying to sneak in, not have them chase me down."

The line went quite for a moment then. Jon instantly felt bad. Jeremy had a really fragile ego. Damn him for being all sensitive.

"Sorry Jer, what is it?" He muttered by way of an apology.

"The entrance. I have a way for you to get in." Jeremy said suddenly, apparently all was forgiven.

Jon smiled. Jeremy always did have something up his sleeve. That was why Jon never played Poker with him. Well that and him being a witch. Oh, it wasn't anything against Witches, Jon just didn't think it was smart to play cards with a guy that he had actually watched make them do a dance number one time because he was bored. Magic just makes ya untrustworthy sometimes. Ok, yeah Jon did also suck at cards, but no one was perfect.

"So what's up Jeremy? Whatcha got?"

"A meal truck. It comes to the tower to supply all the guards and investigators' food. You know, that whole we won't rest until we get to the bottom of this heinous crime none sense."

Jon almost laughed at that, Jeremy's voice got decidedly more English as he repeated the Prime minister's words. Yeah, Jeremy was English, but his common accent had for a moment went upper crust. Jon almost teased him about it, almost.

"Where is it?"

Jon heard the tapping of keys and it became a furious smashing sound. Finger tips were in a tizzy and they didn't stop, even as Jeremy said.

"Looks like it should be heading your way. You're in sector one right? That means that it should pass right off to you left about a half yard."

Jon smiled and nodded. He then realized that Jeremy couldn't see the gesture and felt a bit silly.

"Thanks Jer. That's why we're such a good team."

Jeremy laughed. "Yep. That's it. I'm the handsome brains and you're the a little less sexy brawn. Nice team really."

Jon rolled his eyes.

"Whatever, man! You know I'm much more sexy." He replied, and then he turned his attention down to the end of the wall.

Jon had heard the truck coming while he and Jeremy were talking, now he knew it was his ticket in and running all out on the rather narrow top of the wall, Jon reached the end just as he spotted at shiny silver truck with prints of sandwiches and beverages printed all over the side. Alrighty!

With a smile Jon launched himself off the wall. He landed with a thud , and fell into the shadow of the wall. There he waited, coming out just as the truck passed. Grabbing it's bumper, the man hefted himself up and then fell back, arching his body until he flipped completely and the front of his body suit was rubbing the ground to death. It didn't matter, the material could handle being dragged and so could he.

Jon just concentrated on his hands, which now had a good hold on the truck's underside and with a good amount of strength, Jon pulled himself under the truck and lifted his body upward until his front no longer rubbed the earth and he was stuck perfectly under the bottom of the truck. Flattening himself back against the steel, he was glade the truck wouldn't hit any speed bumps.

It would have been embarrassing to get crushed under a truck, in what looked a lot like a black leather leotard. Jon reminded himself to talk to the boys in R & D. He would have a costume change soon enough. No one wanted to be Ballerina Man, much less the member of a secret organization.


	3. Chapter 3

Hello, ladies and gentleman. And as far as this goes, I'm really sorry that I didn't get to it sooner, but yeah.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hellsing or any of its characters. Those are owned by Kohta Hirano, their original creator, and the anime the property of its creators. All I own are my own over abundance of OCs, and this story. Also this is non-profit, for fun, and to better my writing skills. So yeah read and review. Tell me what you think.

* * *

"Huh…interesting…" Alucard muttered.

Watching him, Integra Windgates Hellsing didn't find anything interesting. Alucard certainly hadn't been doing anything interesting, just sitting around on the floor with his eyes closed looking like an undead bum. Integra had told him so, twice. But by the same token she didn't have a better idea, so she left the vampire to his own devices. Despite how frightening that sounded when she thought about it to herself.

From time to time Integra would break her thoughtful reprieve and as always when she did, Alucard was waiting, baiting her. The woman's annoyance with the as of now useless vampire told her not to take the bait, to let him stew, ignore him. That was the greatest punishment she could bestow on him, ignoring him, he was like a child. He craved attention and while admittedly he deserved it, with the theatrics and power he was capable of. But this was also a weakness, and Integra hated weakness no matter what form it came in. However her boredom got the better of her, even Alucard's games were better than sitting around, and she spoke to him curtly.

"What is interesting Alucard?"

The vampire opened one eye, that crimson orb meeting her gaze. He smiled.

"We have company master…"

* * *

Jon slid from under the food truck without a sound. The man got to his feet and in an instant he was hiding in the shadows, all his senses full and alert. He didn't hear anything, and the rest of his senses mirrored the first. He was alone, well not alone.

There were plenty of guards at the truck getting meals, and plenty of the rest of the folks that show up at the site of any police investigation, but he hadn't heard anyone calling him. You know, no "Hey Jon, long time no see" or "Yo, Johnny boy." But then there also wasn't any of the much more likely and probably popular, "Intruder, freeze." Jon just thanked his lucky stars that he hadn't gotten a, "Look its Ballerina Man!"

Chuckling-on the inside-he moved quickly looking for a way into the tower. Pretty quickly he found out that wasn't much of a problem. The outside walls had survived, but the Tower of London looked like hell. Big chunks looked to have been taken out of the entire side he was now facing.

This made Jon remember the report he had gotten on the incident. Remembering made him want to read the damn thing again. He had to have misread. Had to. If he hadn't misread, well yeah, that meant that most of this damage had been done not by the vampire Incognito, but by Alucard. The same Alucard that he was suppose to rescue from two days of lock up, the vampire Alucard. Holy, hell.

Touching the chain that moved down into his suit at the neck, he apologized for that thought. Nope, couldn't be taking the holy for granted, not today. All that was holy should always be your friend, but Jon was ready to be extra careful today. He made sure to pray, though it was as he slid silently inside the tower. He moved quickly, muttering his prayer under his breath as he also watched for guards. But look as he might it seemed everybody had stepped out for lunch, well dinner, whatever meal it was. Jon wasn't sweating the semantics, just moving as fast as he could.

"Jer, you hear me?"

Jeremy nodded, then realizing that Jon couldn't see the gesture, he blushed, saying. "Yeah, I got you my friend. You are inside and the door leading down into the dungeon is to your left. Open that door and turn to the right, go down the stairs there, and the cells will be at the end of the hall."

Jon nodded, saying. "Alright Jer, I'm doing it now. But this is weird, why haven't I seen any guards. I mean I've seen the guys outside, but should there have been an entire other shift? Not everybody is going to eat at the same time, especially not with Alucard here."

Jon gulped thinking about the outside walls, that crap was impressive, didn't matter who you were.

"Jeremy, his power nearly leveled the place and if they are keeping him contained, well you know they gotta know that he's a vampire. At least some folks gotta know. They're not entirely mundanes here."

"Yeah, I know Jon. I got that as soon as stuff kicked off. I mean The Hellsing Organization does not get captured by the police. They do not get raided. That's too much, think if that kind of crap happened closer to home!"

Jon did think about it.

"Damn." He muttered. On the other end of his communication Jeremy seconded his oath.

Jon just shook his head. Way too much weird crap was going on. But right now he just put it all under the rug, one thing at a time. Right now his mission was to rescue the rest of the Hellsing Organization, and he better get to work.

Taking off down the hall he was about to do just that, that was until he felt his skin tingling.

Magic was in the air.

Turning, he reached for the blade that streaked toward him.


	4. Chapter 4

"What do you mean company, Alucard?" Alucard's master replied, confusion and further annoyance sweeping across her delicate features.

Alucard smiled.

"We have visitors, master! And here I was thinking that tonight would be another boring night."

His smile became a smirk then, and Integra's annoyance peaked.

"What the hell is going on Alucard?" She roared.

Alucard opened his other eye, and his smirk was so amused that it looked like the precursor to a belly laugh. This sent a vein in Integra's forehead to twitching, but Alucard's amused drawl didn't seem to be affected. If anything it seemed more amused at his master's anger.

"Now, now my master, language."

Integra almost exploded. The look on Alucard's face stopped her though, that enjoyment, that baiting again. He was playing with her again, just like before when he had asked her if she wanted his blood. Damn him to hell. She would not loose her temper with him again, no she would not let him gain ground on her. She hadn't let this sort of thing happen to her before in ten years, she was not going to let it happen now.

Taking a breath Sir Integra sighed. She took a breath, slow and steady, then letting her eyes meet his again, she said.

"Alright Alucard, explain what is going on outside?"

"Well, master.."

* * *

Jon grunted as the blade cut through his shoulder. He had still caught the blade and it hurt like hell, hadn't had enough warning to completely avoid it, but he had minimized the damage. He had dropped, legs lost all support, him falling to his ankles. He had thrown himself backward then. The blade had missed his heart because of this, but he'd be damned if the bitch hadn't caught him across the top of his shoulder.

"Huh, down rite impressive fer ae protestant lap dawg." A voice ramble behind the young man.

Jon didn't move, he froze where he was, under the arm holding the second blade that had tried to strike downward after the first missed. Jon was directly under the man's arm, his right hand had reached around the man's arm and caught the oddly shaped sword by the top. It wasn't double edged. Jon was glad that his guess had been right, like this he could hold the blade for as long as he needed to, especially considering that the other blade that was slick with his blood was already past his body. Whoever this guy was, he wasn't gonna bring that blade back into play, not before things were done.

Jon moved, and he slammed his injured right shoulder back into his attacker so hard that he heard a creak of bone on impact. This staggered the man back and Jon caught him by the front of his shirt with one hand reversing his momentum and slamming his face first into the hard stone floor. Jon then dropped a heavy fist to the back of the blond man's head. He gave one more to be sure he was out. The splatter of blood that jutted on the stone told him that perhaps he had over reacted, but Jon wasn't very good at unkilling folks, so he sighed and got to his feet.

Touching his injured shoulder, Jon winced.

Damn it.

Blood was warm on Jon's hand, it came right along with the pain. And like the pain it wasn't helpful at all. Jon was about to release a vampire, no not a vampire, two vampires. He had almost forgotten about Ceres Victoria, but yeah, he really didn't want to be playing savior while bleeding. He wanted to be savior, not martyr.

Looking at the strange leather like material of his suit, Jon shrugged, and tore at his sleeve. Tearing the material into strips, he tied a few around the slash. It hurt to even touch it, and this told him that those had not been ordinary blades.

Shit, they stung.

After using up all the strips and being sure that he didn't have anymore blood flowing down his body, Jon felt confident enough to touch the first of the door handles. The thing was though, that Jon had two identical doors in front of him, big steel things, thick and covered in ward magiced bible pages. Looking at them, Jon wasn't sure which contained who. He just couldn't tell, and he wasn't in a hurry to let a hungry Alucard near him. That is unless they had fed the vampire. Yeah, the police were feeding the vampires, yeah right!

Tearing off the wards to the door on the left, Jon took a slow breath and opened the door. When he did, something leapt out at him. Jon bounced backward, and he was armed in a flash. The twin daggers had been hidden among the continuous black of his bodysuit, inside special built in sheaths, they were black from blade to hilt but they gleamed in the slight light of the torches that burned on the walls of either side of the hall.

The blades flashed again as he moved. He stopped then and stared. The thing that had jumped out at him was sitting on the floor, rubbing her backside.

"Ow..ow..ow." The girl almost chanted, rubbing her lower back and backside.

She had fallen, fallen out of the door, and landed on her butt. Jon blinked, and then he laughed. He laughed hard.

That perhaps wasn't the best thing to do. Her face turned indignant, and she glared at him. He just smiled, having stopped his laugh.

"What's so bloody funny?" She asked, her voice a fine mixture of sweet and sexy. The voice made him blink again. It wasn't what he had expected to come out of the girl's lips.

Well, she looked cute enough. Blond, petit, Caucasian by way of English heritage, it was apparent in the accent, a lot like Jeremy's actually, but a little less proper. Her body, well he wouldn't be much of a gentleman if he looked at her body.

"What are you looking at?" He voice was still indignant.

"Um….well I was just looking to see if you were hurt."

"I didn't fall on my chest!" She growled.

Jon blushed, yeah maybe he wasn't as much a gentlemen as he wanted himself to be. What could he say?

"Sorry."

She glared at him, really glared.

"Really, I'm sorry. And, um…." Jon gulped. He then looked at the blond girl and recognized her. Crap.

"Ceres Victoria?" He asked, his blush deepening.

The girl's eyes got wide then, and he noted that her eyes were crimson. Beautiful, but crimson. She definitely wasn't human.

"How do you know my name? You aren't a guard."

Jon looked at her, sighed and blushed again. He sighed once more, then ran his fingers through his dreadlocks. The young African-American man looked really embarrassed.

"I'm here to rescue you. My name's Jonathan, Jonathan Chaser. Hi." Jon said.

She hugged him, pressed her body against him. He was surprised as all get out, and well he was glad for the warm welcome. Pulling away, he felt a bit faint.

"Glad to see you." She said, and she smiled. Her smile was fanged, Jon didn't mind. Actually her little fangs were kinda hot. He shook his head, nope, he couldn't start thinking like that. He had a job to do, it was best that he finish it up. It was then that he heard Ceres' warning.

"Look out!"

Jon sidestepped, and tried to put his left fist through the arm that wielded the sword. He heard a satisfying crunch and he cursed as the second blade went through his injured shoulder.

A laugh exploded at his shoulder, and he knew it was the same guy that he thought he had killed. He didn't even need the voice that suddenly came with the sound of bone cracking as it was realigned.

"Filthy, vampir lover. So ya cem to lett go the Hellsing pet. You filthy protestants disgust mi." He pulled the sword out. Jon screamed.

"Now, now, ain't na that bad. I dina even kill ya yet, save the screams fer wen I kill ya. Scream fer mortal wunds."

Ceres' eyes went wide and she looked confused as to what to do. Jon followed her shifting gaze from him, where he had fallen to his knees with the removal of the sword, to the door that he knew Alucard must be behind.

"Let him out." Jon gasped.

Ceres made a move, but instantly he tossed the first blade, with the damn arm that Jon had broke. It whirled through the air and caught Ceres clear in the throat, pinning her to the door. She screamed then, soundless, well not soundless. Blood was keeping her from being soundless.

The scream though wasn't from the sword, Jon knew what the scream was from and it definitely wasn't the sword. It was that damned charm, black magic mixed with biblical scripture and faith. It was disgusting. It burned into the vampire's skin like a hot brand, and that was it. Jon couldn't watch this anymore.

The man began to laugh. His laugh was high and histerical, it was like he was going mad. And Jon had gone there, or rather he had become a Luna-tic. Yeah, Jon wasn't human, he never had been, and he howled his inhumanity.

The man's eyes went wide.

The howl tore from Jonathan's lips, hair raising and feral. His teeth lengthened into fangs, and for a moment, had he not howled perhaps the man would have been mistaken him for a vampire, perhaps not. But there was no mistake now. No mistake at all.

Jon's eyes shimmered with torch light suddenly, or rather it seemed torchlight, but the torchlight wasn't a deep metallic golden. It also didn't cause the sounds of tearing flesh, cracking bone, nor the wet and most assuredly unnatural sounds. No, all of these came from the young man as his muscles swelled, his height increased, and his nails stretched into lethal blades. Jon's fingers flexed, and the hand looked like a talon. Fur flowed over skin that had darkened from the color of milk chocolate, to ash, and that fur was the color of soot. Black on black. It made the stretching body suit look brighter by comparison.

Then the change was done, and a creature that looked more wolf than man-yet, frighteningly familiar from late night horror movies, turned and roared at his attacker. His fangs flashed, a mouth full of them, like knives and another howl broke the silence that was before filled with the sounds of Ceres Victoria.

Turning, the werewolf pulled the sword from Ceres' body, and impossibly strong arms supported her weight as she fell into them. It was then that she felt relief, felt his strength supporting her, protecting her. She also smelled his blood, and as if he could read her mind, his voice came. The same voice, from before though dropped a few octaves but some how coming from a wolf's muzzle.

"Drink….please."

"Drink, Police Girl." Alucard's voice agreed, behind them.


	5. Chapter 5

Righty-o ladies and gentlemen, thank you very much to everyone the read and reviewed. Your reviews are very important to yours truly. As I just put my disclaimer in last chapter, well I'll say same rules apply and will throughout this story. What is mine is mine what belongs to others belongs to others. Alright, please enjoy!

Three pairs of eyes instantly, turned, lifted, or in the one instant were propped up toward, the vampire Alucard. The master vampire seemed to drink down all that attention as he sauntered forward, coming through the door that Ceres had fallen through as she listened to what was going on previously in the hall.

Now having become a part of the action, Ceres just looked up at her master from her bed comprised of two arms that felt like steel covered fur. Her eyes were wide; irises seemed to have been consumed by her pupils. She looked like an injured dog, like she had been kicked one too many times, and those eyes were definitely a sign of shock. Both vampire and werewolf recognized to look, it is a prey look. Any predator would recognize it. With that thought, the man with the swords spoke again.

"Well, blood sukar…it seems, dat toy o yours is in ey bad way. Looks ta be shock! Guess she lots ta much blood."

Predators always recognized that look, it is a prey look.

Alucard regarded Anderson with slow crimson eyes, eyes without their normal covering of orange shades. The vampire was without his usual battle garb, standing in the hallway. To any that had before seen him, perhaps he looked a bit underdressed. To Jon, he just looked sleek and dangerous.

All the vampire wore was a grey suit, a body suit that seemed to well mimic an actual suit that is except for the fact that there was no separation between pants and suit jacket. Every thing was one piece, save for the white shirt that had collar and folds within the jacket, and the tie which was a neat bowtie. Or rather not a bow tie, but just a bow, clean crimson silk tied at his throat. The outfit looked antique, but at the same time modern. Jeremy would have called it Neo-gothic. Jon called it a wrapper. It was a wrapper for the biggest can of butt whip likely to hit English shores, ever.

The werewolf was not an empath, he couldn't read emotions, at least not in that way. He could read them with his senses, his keen nose, his sharp eyes, and his cunning intellect, but none of these things gave him a clue as to Alucard's thoughts as he looked the priest over silently.

That stare, that stare that Alucard put to Anderson seemed to last forever. The vampire's eyes did show emotion, yet they were like a storm, a miasma, swirling and churning out of control. Jon wasn't sure what the vampire would do, but already he could tell it would be bad. It was the look of Alucard's eyes alone that told him this was so, those eyes so like those that Ceres Victoria had offered him moments before as a man, but now as a monster Jon saw as a monster, he saw that there was none of the humanity that had been in the girls eyes in these eyes. The eyes of Alucard were alien, completely inhuman, something else, something dark but at the same time, something that was not truly evil, but indifferent. Evil the man could understand, while the beast in him could not. Indifference the beast understood well, it was the look of predator, of he that kills for his survival and his blood. This, the man could name, hear, and comprehend, but truly never would he understand. That look was the look of animals and monsters.

"Drink Police Girl!" Alucard said again, this time a command, firm and sharp. It made Jon want to drink his own blood; it made the beast in him smile. The beast thought suddenly of the girl in its arms not as potential prey, but as a difficult pup.

It was the beast that came up with the answer to Ceres' hesitation. The werewolf brought one finger toward the girl's lips, and being careful of its claw, it nipped her bottom lip.

"Ow…" Ceres, complained. Her throat had been healing all the while, even before the blade had been removed, though it did not heal as most vampire wounds did, instantly sealing up. Instead Ceres' healing was going more slowly. That is until she opened her lips slightly to suck at the little wound. The werewolf bit into his arm then, letting fangs break skin, and a rush of blood fell onto Ceres' face. The girl couldn't shout or protest, instead the blood dripped. Dripped on her face, her lips, and she swallowed it down, her nature savoring the flavor.

All of this happened so suddenly, and then Ceres' eyes were clear, gone was the sudden glassiness, and the large pupils.

"What happened?" She asked.

Alucard looked at her, then to the werewolf. He smiled.

"It would seem that your new friend here knows a thing or two about vampiric instinct. Blood in the mouth always makes one drink when wounded. Always!"

Something about this seemed to amuse Alucard and his laugh was dark and flowing, like oil or some much more forbidden substance. He looked at Jon, giving a wide and very fanged smile.

"Well done, wolfie."

"Monsters…" Anderson growled. Then the priest rushed forward, ready for the attack.


	6. Chapter 6

Alright, let me say that I'm continuing this for me, but I'm also doing it for my fans. Thanks folks, this goes out to everyone that has read and reviewed. I really appreciate you guys and to anyone that hasn't reviewed, well come on! You know you want to, but hold the flames. I take constructive criticism but I'm not too fond of "You Suck" or any such nonsense. Alright folks, read and review.

The fanatical priest was like lightning on the heel, he made a shuffling dash through the stone hallway toward the supernatural predators in the space of a few heart beats drawing a blade from behind his back so smoothly that he didn't even miss a step in his flowing gait. The strike was even faster and more impressive than the priest, it was a flash of silver and glinting candle light off of a shining surface.

Paladin Alexander Anderson was fast. Alucard was faster. The ultimate undead reached out for the blade, but to his surprise, he instead found his hand resting on a fur covered wrist.

Crimson eyes turned from their place on the Paladin that was suddenly unarmed, toward the great white and black furred beast holding one of the priest's bayonet blades between furred fingers. An unreadable expression worked its way across the vampire's features and he spoke.

"Impressive. It has been a long time since I've seen one of your kind; now I remember why you're always so much fun!" The vampire chuckled, and his eyes went back to the priest before him as his mouth worked its way to a rather amused tilt at the surprised look on the man's face.

"What's the matter Father? All those alter boys got you going soft on me…"

The Priest glared at Alucard, refusing to even acknowledge such a remark.

The man's self righteous look turned Alucard's chuckle into a dark belly laugh. It was a sound that seemed to start deep in his chest and rattle around like a death knell, until it passed his lips and began to seemingly pull the shadows of the hallway toward him like a blanket.

Such a thing instantly made Father Anderson look at the Holy Scripture Charms that had been scattered about the hall. These charms weren't his, no someone else had put these about to contain the Hellsing monstrosity, but the paladin found that he could tap into them and had done as such ever since putting the blond blood sucking lassie down.

These charms were powerful, Anderson could feel the power, but still he looked at those shadows. They all but writhed. Oh, they weren't near any charms, the shadows that is, but the vampire was. By God in heaven the monster should not be able to do such things near the presence of such holy power, the fact that the vampire seemed to be doing just that, well that disconcerted the priest to no end.

Sneering at Alucard, the priest pulled several blades from behind his back, holding them between his fingers like claws.

"Plenty moore holy swords ta putt through ya dark heart where datt come frum Blud sucker." The regenerator said, baring teeth in a smile that wasn't really a smile at all.

Alucard returned the look with a modification to his own smile. They both suddenly looked much more dangerous.

Jon looked at both predators, yeah predators, it was as accurate as any title that the man could have come up with and it was what the wolf's instincts called the priest and the vampire. Yeah, the man had to agree.

The wolf looked at both regenerator and vampire as he would competing predators or in Alucard's case, a pack brother. They were pack brothers…for the time being at least.

Still, when the wolf looked at them both, he felt a growl grow low in his throat and the beast glance at Ceres Victoria whom seemed to have been watching her master, only to turn her head at the soft sound falling from his lips.

Alucard and Anderson's attention turned to the beast too then, and Anderson's sneer readjusted itself to his displeasure at the sight before him. The man-beast creature, a creature that looked exactly the way it did in Hollywood movies, a werewolf, a lycanthrope, another bloody sinful monster.

"Oooh, I don't think he likes you." Alucard purred amusement, following the werewolf's metallic golden gaze to the paladin.

This drew a snort from the priest as he raised one bladed hand higher than the other as if preparing to throw the bayonets. Alucard watched this and gave a snort of his own.

"You won't kill him or me for that matter, with your little toys…Father!" Alucard said in agitation, his voice sounding suddenly annoyed, yet somehow still managing to still contain a trace of his usual barely contained amusement and a bit more at the word "Father." Alucard made the title sound like a curse and the priest's sneer turned into a look of total and utter hatred.

"Un-cleen-thing." The man snarled.

"He's right."

Anderson looked back toward the werewolf and though he had heard it speak before, he found that his attention was suddenly drawn by the incredulous nature of the spectacle of that muzzle moving and words coming out.

If the guarded surprise in Anderson's eyes meant anything to the werewolf, he didn't show it. Instead he repeated.

"He's right you can't kill me with those things." The werewolf rose from the kneeling crouch that he had fallen into, ready to pounce. With that one movement, many things were explained then. First and foremost was what the werewolf had done with the blade he had taken from the priest, Anderson had decided not to care, or so he told himself.

In truth the man had let his rage at the Hellsing Nosferatu distract him, if they had fought him intelligently, well he would be dead. If the Hellsing pet were to come after him, even unarmed without his human weapons as he was, at the same time as something that could move the way that he had seen, or rather not seen the werewolf move. The priest had to admit that this was his first encounter with a werewolf and the beast looked darn impressive. The werewolf's move showed that he had snapped the blade in half. Nasty, very nasty.

The second thing that the werewolf's move showed was an unnatural grace that had the creature standing in front Alucard, between him and Anderson in an instant and that easily brought up the matter of his height and size. The werewolf was easily seven feet tall now that he was standing straight backed and perhaps that was a difference from the movie werewolf. In movies werewolves are usually always crouched or hunched; sometimes their spines aren't even straight.

This werewolf's back was straight, ramrod straight as he stood. The werewolf's back, it was a man's back, wider, more flexible, and carved in its musculature than it had been, but it was human in design. The being's entire body was humanoid from mid neck down to the waist where the human tail bone lengthened into a bushy white/black tail that had some how found its way through a hole that was in the black body suit that was the man-beast's only clothing. The body suit had short pant legs, they ended at the werewolf's knees, just right, considering that at the knee, the humanoid form wavered, merging with more lupine features.

The legs bent backward, like a dog or a wolf's leg, then the paw/feet were larger but were obviously good for the balancing act along with the tail. The fact that anything was graceful on legs like that, well that said a lot. Alucard said as much, looking at Anderson.

"Are you afraid, priest? Thinking that we might join together and eat you?"

Alucard chuckled again, dark like before and there was the slightest amount of mania to that laughter. That laugh made Anderson's skin crawl, it was too much like his own, for his comfort. It also made the priest target the werewolf, he would have to see the mongrel dead before he took on the Hellsing vampire. The priest had seen the demon's true form as well, he knew that at any moment the vampire might be set lose of his limitations. That was a fight he did not want two enemies for.

All of this, the two of them, this was just too much. They made Jon sigh and it was a strange sound coming from his wolf's muzzle of a mouth, they both looked at him because of it.

"Stop it kiddies…" He growled suddenly. The Werewolf looked first at priest and then vampire. "I've wasted too much time here, getting jumped, meeting cute girls, and the damn sword wounds." He growled, " Damn it, I didn't have time for all this crap."

The two nemeses both glared at him, he glared back. The werewolf was better at glaring, even better than the ultimate undead.

"We don't have time for this!" The Werewolf snarled, now showing teeth that were like steak knives.

It was then that the screaming started.


	7. Chapter 7

Well welcome back ladies and gentleman, and if you're reading this, then I am glad. This is the next chapter, as if you haven't figured that out yet…and as always, I don't own anything about Hellsing. I do own my OCs though and if Jon and Jeremy weren't warning enough, I've got plenty of those. Alright, now a special shout out to my one and only constant reviewer, Angelic Fire 8. Thanks for reviewing I really appreciate it and feel free to give any and all feed back. The same goes for everyone else too, read & review, please! No, I won't beg, Pleeeaase!

Now on with the show:

Jon's lupine eyes widened in an instant at the horrendous scream and Alucard stood completely and totally still, his crimson eyes taking in every measure of the violence before him, and violent it was. Paladin Alexander Anderson had been staring at both of the preternatural beings before him one moment, perhaps planing his next attack, but the next, the next he was screaming as his chest exploded in a rain of crimson and a wet splat of much more solid things. There was a crack of bone. Then a tear of flesh. Muscles, arteries, sinew, and bone, the sound was harsh and brutal, it was stomach turning, though perhaps that was all in one's point of view.

To Alucard the scene might have been beautiful, or perhaps not, any on looker would have been at a loss. The vampire gave nothing away with his stony expression, and the werewolf was little better, his eyes having gone cold from their initial shock and his lupine physiognomy not being designed for expressing emotion. No, the two inhuman beings gave nothing away even as they watched something materialize within the ragged wound in Anderson's chest.

That something turned out to be a hand, a claw, well something that was somewhere in between. The appendage, whatever it was, it was stained bright crimson. Blood covered every inch that had torn through the man's body, sliding along with chunky bits of gore. Time seemed to change, the chunks seemed heavy yet they moved down that claw with a slowness that seemed to some how make it that much more horrid.

There came a chuckle then, a high shrill laugh, and it echoed in the hallway's small confines. And with that chuckle, it appeared. It was round like a ball, shimmering and golden. It shone like the sun and was as perfectly spherical. Almost too perfect, nature doesn't create things that perfect, it was energy. That much Alucard could tell, but not what kind, was it some strange kind of attack?

"His soul." Jon gasped.

Alucard's eyes widened. Surprise filled those cold, impassive, indifferent eyes.

That chuckle came again, and this time fluttery, as if the one laughing could seem to breathe, so great was the amusement. The Paladin's screams continued, they had never really stopped, only become a constant, a background noise that was horrid on its own, but blocked out as more sounds came. The laugh was one of those sounds, at first it was like an echo just as it had been before, but then little by little the echo seemed to change tune and then faded in like a bad television sound track. That was when like the claw, something else seemed to appear.

Jon and Alucard watched silently as a shape seemed to just appear out of nothingness, well no not nothingness, Jon realized. Shadow. The figure formed itself out of shadow, a great swelling blackness that expanding out of the wall off to the priest's right though behind the screaming priest. The blackness was like nothing that Jon had ever seen, to Alucard it reminded him of his blood regeneration. It was just as the vampire had done so many times himself, being a pool of blood and willing himself back into existence. This was surprisingly like that, and then it was done and Alucard found himself looking into a pair of the strangest eyes he had ever met, which for the crimson eyes monster was saying a lot.

The left eye was as crimson, as sanguine as his own eyes, yet it was touched with black, ebony that was shaped like a pinwheel that surrounded a pupil that was only a little darker red than the iris. Stranger still though, was the shards of red that were the same as the pupil that seemed to shift and flow in the iris like the little false flakes in a snow globe, just inside the eye white. The right eye was just as strange as the left. The right was a solid wall of silver, that is except for the white of the eye and a white-silver circle that separated iris from pupil.

Those eyes were strange, very strange, but suddenly Alucard realized that even stranger was the being attached to them, attached to that claw in Anderson's chest. The vampire's first reaction was that she was a very pretty girl, but then just as quickly the man realized his mistake.

The girl wasn't a girl, it, she was a he. The young man, for he did look young, was nearly as tall as the priest. He had a face that was beautiful like that of a woman, delicate, with high finite cheek bones and skin so smooth that it lended greatly to the original illusion of femininity. But the more Alucard looked at him, the more masculine he seemed to look. All kinds of details seemed to jump to the vampire's eye as if they had not been there a moment ago. The masculine markers appeared until the vampire found himself just looking at the man's face wondering how he had ever mistaken him for a woman, and not noticing the fact that the claw sticking out of the still screaming Anderson's chest was clicking spear like finger tips against the man's sternum.

Jon looked at Alucard and struck out with a hand that firmly connected. The sting brought Alucard's eyes to the werewolf and a fanged sneer broke the neutrality of his face.

"Being ensnared by this guy sucks…" Came the growl.

Alucard blinked. "What?"

Jon snarled and bared a maw full of fangs at the being in front of them. Alucard looked at his eyes and noticed that they didn't match up with the man's gaze.

"He can ensnare you with his eyes," Jon explained. "He's a devil, a real fallen angel, and his name is Astaroth."

The Astaroth laughed again, a chuckle at the mention of his name and with that chuckle a hand, a human hand that Alucard had not noticed attached on his left, snaked to Anderson's left shoulder. With one push, the devil removed Anderson's body from its claw and the minute the claw left him, Anderson was silent and still. Alucard thought that the priest was dead for a moment, but his ears picked up breathing and even a heart beat from the body. The vampire also suddenly realized that the wound was healing.

Leave it to Vatican Section XIII to create a regenerator that could heal that much damage. Alucard cursed, thinking of how much fun he would have been. But the vampire couldn't see himself losing much sleep over the priest, no, no sleep less days.

Looking at Astaroth again, this time not meeting his eyes, Alucard smirked the smirk of the damned and then he looked to the werewolf and gave a questioning look.

"What is going on?" The vampire asked. "I recognize the name Astaroth. He is a devil, one of the princes of hell. Really powerful. Dangerous. A rather fun boy, all in all."

The vampire shot the devil another smirk that bristled with his excitement. Astaroth returned the expression, in spades, he too looked excited, almost maniacal, and his eyes took on a soft glow as the hand that had torn through Anderson's chest shimmered golden and the ball of energy was gone.

That beautiful face, suddenly masculine yet still so inhumanly beautiful, contorted in pleasure, in bliss, and he let out an orgasmic hiss. The glow that had taken his eyes and then the flesh of his claw subsided slowly then, until the claw was covered only in blood and gore, all done with that strange light. Holding up the appendage for both supernaturals, the devil's smile was a bright one, one that made him instantly into a madman, and he slowly brought the finger like claws of the strange hand hybrid to his lips. Sucking off a particularly large clump of raw meat into his mouth and letting his tongue trail across his flesh gathering blood, his eyes tried to meet those of his spectators.

Jon looked away, at Alucard, Alucard simply moved his head slightly to keep from meeting the fallen angel's gaze. Both knew the thing's game, it was playing on their individual hungers, blood for Alucard, flesh for Jon, werewolf and vampire. Their weaknesses were common knowledge to any one that could figure out what they were, the devil didn't have to figure out.

But then, him being a devil, that raised a few questions, the first of which was. "Wolfie, why do you know his name? And as I asked before, what is going on? Why can he move about?"

Jon sighed, knowing what Alucard meant. There were certain rules that went along with demon or devil summons, or the creatures in general actually. More rules with the latter and the fact that was where Astaroth fell, well yeah, he shouldn't have been moving about, he should have been bound to his place of summoning. More so he shouldn't have been able to sustain form in this reality without being inside some kind of circle of power that brought over a bit of hell's energy.

Anyone that worked with demons, knew that demons could do that kind of thing, run about, but devils, no. Devils disturbed the natural order of things too much, even the material that made up their bodies on this side. It was because of this that you had to bind a demon, sacrifice it, and use its blood as well as a good douse of your own to summon one devil, for even the amount of time that it would take for it to rip out your throat for being idiotic enough to summon it in the first place. Yeah, a devil shouldn't be walking about.

As for knowing its name, well that was the thing about devil and demon kind, if you knew a name you were able to summon or gain at least a slight amount of control over all that you could name. That was why it was a bitch to identify who or what was responsible for anything when the demonic was involved. But then that was a two way street. If a demon or devil knew your proper name, complete and full. Lets just say you don't want the demonic knowing you that well.

Jon sighed. "No clue. I've fought him before, he kicked my ass and him and his arrogant brothers told me and my team their names. Cocky bastards."

That made Alucard's smile turn into a grin. "Cocky bastard indeed." He laughed.

The devil seemed to find it funny too, or maybe that wasn't it. Looking into his eyes, Jon figured that it wasn't, probably just insane.

"Why are you here?" Alucard asked.

The devil seemed to consider that for a moment, then he brought bloody fingers to his lips and began working at them the way a kid does a lollypop.

"Well, Alucard. I came for you, little brother…I came to free you of your burden so that you might join us." He said between gulps of flesh and blood. "I have come here to kill Integra Wingates Hellsing."


	8. Chapter 8

Back again folks. Yeah, I'm not going to beg for reviews this time, just going to get on with the story. I want you guys to read and review, but that doesn't mean its going to happen, so fine.

I'll leave it at, Hellsing does not belong to me, nor its characters. My characters are my own though.

Jeremy Cromwell paced back and forth, his feet beating down a steady rhythm and his eyes unconsciously following a rather similar one as they looked about. Nervous? Well yeah, the looking about was a sure sign that he was high strung. But then Jeremy wasn't hiding it from anyone, hell he was practically jumping out of his skin.

Jon should have been back, him, Alucard, Ceres, and Integra, that was their mission, to get the Hellsing Organization out of the tower. The Queen Mum herself had ordered them, well no ordered was the wrong word. Officially the Hellsing Organization was a terrorist group, even the queen couldn't turn back time and undo the news broadcast that had made it appear that the organization had attacked the tower. However, that wouldn't stop a certain special ops group from getting them out, all the guards were supposed to be in on it, or at least that was the way it was supposed to work.

When Jeremy and Jon got to the tower, well let us say that they had both smelled a rat. That was why they had gone into things with secret agent as their mum word. He and Jon had both agreed, in and out was the best strategy, they had to hurry, too many strange things had been happening lately. Too much and on too many fronts.

Something was up, there was some plan in motion that none of them could see, Jeremy was sure of it. All the vampires, demons, ghosts, and the devils. It all had to be connected some how, Jeremy didn't believe in coincidence. No, everything was happening for a reason, there was even a reason for Jon being late.

He surely didn't decide to stop and sightsee, so with that ruled out, the young British man could only think of one other possibility. Jon was in trouble, nothing new about that really, but it meant that it was time that Jeremy called for reinforcements.

Reaching into the breast pocket of the suit jacket he wore, Jeremy's fingers wrapped about the small cell phone. A press of a button had the phone slide open, the newest thing, something that spoke instantly of its tech savvy owner.

Jeremy loved technology, loved it almost as much as he loved his family's claim to fame. Whenever new bits of tech came out, the latest model this, the latest model that, Jeremy was always first in line and then back home seeing if there was something he could do to combine his passions. He was a simple creature that way, as composed and gathered as the suits he wore or the personality he challenged the world to hate, but right now Jeremy's composure was a fragile thing. It was the same as his voice when he pressed the "Prog." Button on his phone and got an answer on the first speed dialed ring.

"Jeremy?" The voice on the other end was a husky purr.

To most people, a voice sounding like this might have been disconcerting. There were only a few situations that got a woman's voice to sound that way, well that or genetics. In this case, Jeremy didn't have to be told it was genetics. Any one that had ever met the woman belonging to that voice would have known it was genetics.

"Yes, I'm here Lucia." Jeremy said.

"What's happened?" That was Lucia, like a stake, always to the heart of the matter.

"I'm not sure, ma'am. All I know is that the security set up was much removed from the files we received. Reality was a mess I'm afraid. Jonathan has infiltrated. He managed to get in unseen by the guard, though they were definitely not the English Royal Guard that the Queen promised. From Jon's descriptions there was a mix of the pre-prescribed policemen, the limited press that they are allowing in, and what looked to be special task force operatives. Rather they be M-I5 or not, well that we are unsure of. We are sure only that they are out in force."

The woman seemed to take all of this in silence, it was as if she were remembering every word, every observation, and taking it to memory. And since Jeremy knew how good her memory was, odds were pretty good that she was doing just that.

"M-I5 or no, I wouldn't be worried about Jon. But you think it is more than that, don't you?"

Jeremy paused, not sure what to say. Not one to go throwing ridiculous theories about, the last Cromwell considered his statement carefully. He thought it through, then spoke carefully.

"Well ma'am, I…"

She interrupted before he could get out a single of his carefully chosen words.

"Jeremy, I know you remember? We've worked together for years and our ancestors before us. Stop stalling I don't need a pretty speech. And besides, I feel the same way. Too many things have been happening lately. Just last night the vampire Incognito was silenced by Alucard, but only after almost sacrificing Sir Integra. Conveniently, not only us, but Lazarus as well were away from London It does not take genus."

Jeremy nodded, then realized that the woman couldn't see the expression. Was his nervousness growing so much? Probably.

"Yes ma'am, you're right." He answered.

She sighed, it was a sound as husky as her speaking voice and now it was a tired sound. It was heavy with a thousand concerns, a thousand theories, and less than fifty men and women. The recent events hadn't been kind, Jeremy knew that. He'd been a part of it. But it all felt so much worst hearing it flow out of one of the people that he respected most in the world. Coming from her lips, even only as a sigh, well it made Jeremy think that things were probably worst than he knew.

"We'll be there soon, Jeremy." The woman's tired voice said.

"I await your arrival…"Jeremy started to say, instead he simply clicked off his phone, because the line was already dead. Yeah, like a stake, sharp and to the heart of the matter. That was Lucia Elizabeth Solomon, and to the heart didn't give much time for pleasantries like; hello or good-bye.

"Good-bye Sir Lucia." Jeremy said to no one, on the other end of his phone line, then the phone was once again in his pocket and Jeremy began to pace again.

The vampire Alucard froze. No, not paused, he didn't just stop, he froze solid, unmoving and not breathing. He was simply present and perfectly still. Little more than a statue.

Astaroth stared at him, a pleased smile on his face. It was obvious that this was just the reaction that the devil had been expecting. As if to affirm this, the devil spoke again, his smile widening with each word.

"Just think of it Alucard…freedom. I kill her and you get the one thing that you've wanted more than anything else in your entire life. All I ask is that you consider joining us. My brothers would be glad to have our little brother join us…they'd be ecstatic."

Still Alucard was silent, like stone.

"Join you? He'll destroy you…every single last one of you."

Astaroth's smile wavered then, his eyes shifted from their place on Alucard and toward the voice. For a moment the devil simply looked at the werewolf, but the wolf wasn't looking at him. No, instead the big wolf-man was looking over his shoulder. The devil watched as his body tensed.

"You." The wolf's deep voice accused.

"Yes, me." The reply was that voice, that voice that had spoke of Alucard destroying him. Its reply was amused, teasing. Astaroth hated it, he'd tear out the speaker's vocal cords.

The werewolf stood for a moment longer, after the voice said. "Let me see him."

The seven foot tall man-beast looked as if it wanted to argue, it opened its muzzle as if it would speak, then closed it just as quickly. The ebony and ivory furred beast let out a soft growl, turned focusing golden eyes on the devil once again. He didn't look Astaroth in the eye, still being careful, the devil hated that, but still he noticed the beast's pure hatred. Such a thing was amusing coming from a lower life form like a werewolf, but something about the look that gave Astaroth pause. He knew instantly something wasn't right about the beast.

Astaroth and his brothers had defeated him and the others before, it hadn't been hard, but something wasn't right. Not right about him.

The werewolf moved, he and Alucard had been nearly shoulder to shoulder, the two of them had all but filled the hallway. Nothing could have been seen behind them, and so it was that it was a complete surprise when the werewolf moved backward. Four simple steps and suddenly the devil saw the cell doors, both wide open.

Then from behind the werewolf and Alucard respectively, two petite figures. The first one was a mere girl. A short golden blond in a short blue skirt, tight, a matching shirt. She was wearing a uniform of some sort, big in the chest, small in the waist, pretty, with red eyes but he could just barely tell. Tell about her eyes that was.

She wouldn't meet his gaze and it made Astaroth smile. Obviously she had been paying attention to the werewolf.

Bully for her.

It wouldn't save her, not her or that loud mouthed mutt. The fourth prince of hell would destroy them all, and Hellsing too.

That name, as soon as he thought it. The second figure, it was her. It was the woman that his master had sent him to kill.

"Integra Wingates Hellsing…" He hissed the name.

She smiled. The platinum hair woman, smiled at him.

The aforementioned Hellsing heir smiled a bright and definitely cynical smile, her pearly white teeth looking for all the world sharp and gleaming. They were the teeth of a predator, a lioness, and like a lioness baring her fangs, Integra brought with her a sense of dread. It was silly, absurd, Astaroth knew these things, yet he could not help but feel a sense of dread at the woman's expression. There was something there, something more frightening than any foe the devil could remember in his long and ancient memory.

What was it about her that made him feel this way? The devil lord truly didn't know, but he did know that it was annoying, that he should kill her brutally for it, yes kill her. It was his order, his master…he would be pleased, and that woman, she would never look at him like that again.

Astaroth's movement was a blur, no it was a breath of wind. A breath of wind like a hurricane, and all of that power it exploded in an aura of total and complete golden energy. It crept along his skin like electric force, jumping and crackling, when he stopped and his claw sunk deep. All the blood and gore that had been on that claw was gone now, and the scale like skin shimmered a metallic silver with only the lightest creep of gold still dancing along that limb.

The devil flexed his claws then, waiting for the scent of blood, the hot rush that should come with that meaty feeling that surrounded his claw. Oh, yes, how grand it would feel to have the woman's life blood flow between his taloned fingers. Astaroth licked his lips at the thought, then turned to look at Alucard, to see the surprise in his face at the speed at which his master had died.

It was then that the vampire's smiling face met the devil's gaze.

The smile was sharp and predatory, and Alucard wasn't at an angle as he should have been, no, he was just off to the devil's side and being slightly taller, looking down at the man. Astaroth understood then, he moved his fingers more, and realized instantly that it wasn't flesh that he had sank deep into. No, it was cloth, thick and fleshy, a coat to be exact. Alucard's coat.

The vampire laughed. It was a sharp and maniacal sound, and a moment later Alucard was smiling with eyes twinkling from behind the orange lens of his shades, with his crimson hat tilted downward to the point that it almost touched those strange lenses.

"Impressive. Had I not been expecting that, surely my master would be dead." Alucard said, his voice somewhere between compliment and insult, sounding both pleased and disappointed at the implied prospect of Integra's death.

Integra Wingates Hellsing was now standing between Ceres and Jon. The werewolf's arm was about her waist. Jon had been just as fast and expectant as Alucard, in fact through Alucard's movements he had gotten the plan. He had moved Integra just in time. He hadn't even seen Astaroth move. Damn he was fast.

Integra slapped his arm and instantly the lycanthrope released her.

"Ow…" He complained with a growl.

"That was for being so blasted forward."

Jon simply shook his lupine head. "Sorry." He muttered.

Alucard laughed, but never took his attention away from the devil that was now in his grasp. The vampire found his master's reaction to the werewolf most amusing, it was so extraordinary, yet so human. Funny. Silly humans.

Alucard had grabbed Astaroth a soon as the devil had worked his claw out of the crimson flow of his red over coat, and now the vampire held him, putting as much pressure as he could manage with his right hand on the wrist of the claw/hand. Had the arm been normal, human, vampire even, the bone would have snapped like dry kindling. As it was though, the devil gritted his teeth, but showed no other signs of discomfort.

"Alucard…" The devil growled the name, as if it was frustrating simply to utter the moniker.

Alucard grinned wider. "Yes?" His voice was casual.

The devil seemed annoyed at the reply, as if something about the casualness with which Alucard regarded him stroked him the wrong way, but regardless he ignored it.

"Alucard, your freedom. You would protect her, them, these vermin rather than have you freedom!"

Alucard's eyes narrowed.

"Vermin? You would dare call my master vermin? You truly are an arrogant one."

"Yes, yes he is." Integra's voice said, coming from behind Alucard. "That is why we are about the ride the world of his brand of filth. Destroy him Alucard."

The vampire's grin widened again, this time to the maniacal proportions that Alucard's enemies knew all too well. That look that meant death for most that had laid eyes upon it.

"Releasing control art restriction system to level two, release shall remain in effect until target is silenced." Alucard's voice chuckled. The vampire's expression had evolved from the neutrality that had sunk in at the devil's odd offer, to a maniac's excitement. Watching closely one could see the almost electric current run through the vampire. Oh yes, his eyes sparkled behind those cloudy orange lenses.

Alucard was ready to fight, to once again seek a suitable opponent.

Astaroth was tired of the games. If his master wanted Alucard, well he could pick up the pieces after he was done. Though he'd better bring a bucket. Play time was over.

The devil broke the vampire's grip with a quick tug of his arm. It wasn't as easy as it sounded, the vampire had grown surprisingly strong with the simple lowering of the mystic barriers that held his power in check. The problem was that Astaroth was without barriers and without mercy.

Pulling back, Astaroth slid his fingers open, muscles tensing down his forearm, and he thrust the claws into a finger jab. The blow glanced off of Alucard's forearm as he brought his left arm down. Moving, back and turning his body left. This gave the vampire breathing room, but not much, because the devil was on him again in a flash. The claw slashed, Alucard ducked, but not fast enough because those claws slashed the brim of Alucard's hat like it was air. The crimson material fell to the floor, but there was no time to think about that, because the devil's other hand.

That most human of appendages, it caught Alucard full. The impact rocked the vampire's jaw.

A smile.

Astaroth caught him again.

Then a kick, the devil smiled down at the fallen vampire. Kicking him, his foot falling in rapid succession, again and again Combat boots that the monster had approximated were quickly taken from black to red. A bright crimson that was thick and slick as he stomped the vampire, trying to beat him to death.

Alucard's form was quickly crumpling. Most notably the head. All but the first kick and the last couple had been aimed there. The devil had sought to incapacitate the vampire, it seemed it had worked.

"Jesus."

Astaroth smiled at the werewolf. "You haven't seen anything yet…" He chuckled.

Integra just stared, stared at the prone and bloody, nearly headless form. Integra knew that he wasn't dead, couldn't be, but by God it had been so brutal. So visceral. It only proceeded to be more so.

Astaroth kneeled, grabbing the prone body by the thick fleshy material of the red overcoat, and the suit jacket underneath. With an ease that showed in his smirk and his eyes, the monster lifted what remained of Alucard over his head. It looked ridiculous like something that should have been at home in a pro wrestling ring, but then the horror of the crimson leaking from the mangled head, dripping down the devil's body, made it all too real and too horrible.

Astaroth was shirtless, he wore only pants and boots. Integra guessed that the devil's clothing was approximated, the way that Alucard's were. It was will alone that had formed skin tight pants, now soaked with blood, that stretched the length of trim legs and boots that now glistened with it , with Alucard's blood. God help them, this thing, he was a monster.

The blood then trickled down Astaroth's muscled perfection of a chest. The blood seemed brighter against the pale contrast of his skin, brighter and more obscene as the ichor seemed to mold to his skin like sweat. This made the crimson flow seem worse as it soaked the top of the devil's pants, then blood was splattering everywhere as Alucard was crushed harder into the wall with a loud and resounding crack of bone and another shower of blood.

Another crack, slow this time, resounding and shuddering down the spine of everyone in the hallway. Astaroth had slammed Alucard farther into the wall, pressing the body face down. It was being smashed. He released it then, and with a turn of his body to build momentum and give gravity a moment to let the body drop, he smashed his claw's less than human elbow into the body's spine.

Another snap. Visceral. God.

The body separated in half at the elbow blow.

The thing was though, that the elbow wasn't an elbow anymore. Instead the bone that made up the top of the elbow had elongated, curved, and attached itself to the upper arm The last of the scaly skin was covering it as crimson dripped down the blade. It had to be nearly two feet, was curved like a scimitar and finished with the same silver colored flesh as the scales that made up the top half of that arm.

Standing there, looking every bit the conquer, Astaroth gazed down at the two chunks of flesh, torso and lower body, just looking at them brought a pleased smile to the devil's model perfect face.

"That was good." He sighed, then his gaze moving, his entire body turning with his eyes. Those eyes, as inhuman and monstrous as their owner, they turned on Integra and the devil smiled brightly as if he were thinking of inviting her to after noon tea. Instead his voice was a casual lithe as he said.

"Will you be reviving him to fight for real now? This is growing rather boring…"

Integra's eyes widened. She was speechless.

How could, well how would a devil know about Alucard? It was then that Integra understood. It was so simple, yet how? No, he couldn't know what Alucard really was. But then, if he didn't, how would he know to expect the vampire's regeneration. There were very few that knew what Alucard was capable of, and none that had expected it. Even with his reputation as the ultimate undead. God what was this monster, really what was he? Was he really some devil pulled up from the pits of Hell? The very thought made Integra wish for a weapon, and not just any weapon, something blessed. Prayed over and sanctified. Something made of silver and very very deadly.

Integra's voice was a husky whisper, but she still the strong willed Hellsing managed to make it sound every bit the command that it was.

"Alucard. Get up and destroy this monstrosity." Her eyes darkened with her rage. "Wake up Alucard!"

Gritting her teeth, Integra all but growled.

"Situation A! Unlock limited release control system to level one. Activate the Cromwell initiative! Your Master Hellsing commands it! Acknowledge approval!"

Nothing happened.

"Damn it Alucard."

"Language, my master. Language." Alucard's disembodied voice teased.

A laugh. A laugh slow and flowing, trickling and smooth. It rippled and shifted. It was a dark and compelling sound as if all the world's temptations were distilled and poured into that wonderfully musical and mercy less chortle. That laugh flowed down Integra's spine like silk, both a luxury and an annoyance. Then the chuckle dissipated and the voice boomed.

"Limited release approval is confirmed! Releasing control art restriction system to level one!"


	9. Chapter 9

Hello once again ladies and gentleman. As usual I don't own Hellsing, that's Kohta Hirano's property, but my characters are my own and well this plot, which will shortly be jump started. Yay. Read and Review!

Ceres Victoria stood in silence, transfixed. Her wide shock filled eyes were focused not on her master and the brutality visited upon him, she had watched, but had been forced to turn away. It was horrible. It was disgusting. It was…a deep dark part of her was enticed. As she had looked at the blood; watching as it began to splatter, a part of her had pictured falling to all fours and lapping at the swelling pool of crimson. That part yearned for it, could taste it, and that part was the first thing she slapped aside as she turned away.

Ceres was scared stiff, and it wasn't from any enemy.

Even after her master's voice reverberated throughout the hall, once again proving his immortality, she still couldn't look. After all the blood was still there, the scent of violence and the promise of more. It made her mouth water and she hated it.

This perhaps was what brought the vampire's attention to the lycanthrope and Sir Integra Hellsing. Sir Integra was in front of her now, closer to the devil and the blood shed, he, the werewolf, Jonathan was standing in front of her. He was a living shield between her and the devil. It seemed a sad and futile resistance against the smiling beast that was mauling her master, and yet even as she watched him crouch down and growl, bulging muscles flexing with pure primitive fury and adrenaline, she couldn't help but consider him a powerful new ally.

He was an ally after all wasn't he? She remembered the words of the young man that had metamorphosed. He had said he was there to rescue her, them. He was standing with them, against this…this…thing. Could she, could any of them trust him?

What happened next made Ceres more than consider the possibility. The ebony furred wolf-man let out a savage snarl, he dashed forward several steps, and his black taloned nails tore forward in a blur. The vampire smelled blood. It wasn't the devil's.

Ceres watched in stock horror as the devil held the clawed hand that had lashed out. He held it at the wrist and just like that she heard snapping bones and heard Jon all but yelp as the devil sent his other hand into the wolf-man's side. Finger tips tore through flesh and again bone cracked., the devil pulled the fingers back out again and then the werewolf was sailing back down the hall.

"Watch out Sir Integra." The vampiress pulled the last Hellsing backward with a single hand under her left arm, and both hugged the opposite side of the hallway as the werewolf landed near them with a heavy thud.

Both looked as if they might regard the fallen lycanthrope, but they dared not as they watched the devil smile at them, smoothing a vagrant strand of hair behind his ear with an almost feminine smile.

"Go ahead. Help him." It offered.

Neither woman moved.

Then the laugh came again, flowing like water. It was dark and a bit thick. It was obviously Alucard and he chuckled his amusement.

"Not bad." The voice complimented.

Astaroth smiled, his strange eyes suddenly searching for his abandoned prey. To his surprise though, it was nowhere to be found. Alucard's remains were gone, disappeared, in its place there was only blood. More blood than the devil remembered. Before it had been a splashed and seeped draught, but now pool wasn't simply a figure of speech. No, as Astaroth approached, it was like looking into an abyss. This made him smile.

"Come to me little brother." He whispered.

With that came a laugh, but it wasn't the devil's.

"Oh, I'm coming." The laughing voice said and it was still filled with amusement.

A grin.

A grin was the first sign of life. It gleamed wide and devilish, that of the Cheshire Cat gone mad. It appeared in the blood pool like a hideous lucky charm in the cereal bowl from hell, and then it began to rise as the blood did likewise.

The crimson ichor moved like a living thing, a monstrous serpent. And that smile opened wide becoming a fang filled maw that snapped close just before opening wide again and striking outward with a movement that was truly serpentine. This more than anything that had happened thus far seemed to surprise the devil and he leapt backward, but not before the monstrous snake's fangs sunk into his flesh. The snake bit once, only to open its jaws and strike again. Again and again it struck, that was until the devil let out a hiss low in his throat and that blade that had been a flicker of movement before at his elbow lashed out at the strange snake thing that had just sunken fangs again into the monster's left arm.

The snake's crimson tube like body was dissected in an instant. That didn't stop the thing's head from striking again though. That nasty maw opened once again and tore into flesh. The devil for his part grabbed at its base and tore it away, taking with it a good amount of flesh.

The devil let out a roar, but it was less pained than it was annoyed. And the beast's eyes locked on the disembodied stump as he tossed it to the ground. He watched as it and the other half dissolved back into blood, and a sneer washed over his beautiful features.

"Stop these games and fight me!" He snapped, his gaze stuck on the pool of blood.

Even as he said this, the being was cradling his injured arm. It was savaged, torn and bleeding, missing a chunk of flesh that had come off with the serpent thing's head, and yet despite that, his expression was still fierce and hungry. He still wanted to fight.

At a whimper, Ceres redirected her attention from the devil where it had wandered despite herself and the blood, to suddenly take in the wounded form of the werewolf. His body was healing, healing much faster than any human ever could and he was moving, he hadn't been doing that before. Ceres wanted to help him, but at the same time she wondered about the devil. Was he waiting for her to go to the werewolf, but before the vampire could consider this further, she was watching Sir. Integra kneel at the wounded lycanthrope's side.

"Police girl." She called.

Ceres moved without further word, and it was a moment later that she was kneeling with Sir. Integra.

"Police girl, hold him. I'll use my jacket to staunch the bleeding."

For a moment Ceres looked confused. He was healing, wasn't he?

"Staunch the bleeding?" She asked, confused.

Integra took her confusion badly.

"Damn it girl, listen. He won't die of these wounds, but if we don't keep enough blood in him, he'll be useless in this or any other fight. We might even be forced to carry him."

Ceres really didn't want to try carrying the seven foot beast man, and there was no way Integra could. Obeying, Ceres took the wolf-man's massive shoulders in her petite hands and held as best she could. Integra stood, pulling off her jacket. She balled up the olive green cloth, and kneeled again before pressing the cloth into the bloody wound that was torn but healing at the creature's side.

Ceres really had to hold. The lycanthrope thrashed at the pain, but he was still finally after a few moments and he let out a low growl of annoyance. It was obvious that he wasn't too keen on them hurting him, or maybe he was embarrassed at being helped.

That last made Ceres smile, and that smile in return got an annoyed grunt from the wolf. Ceres realized that she had been right. It wasn't them, he didn't like the help. She could empathize, she felt the same way sometime. Being helped made Ceres feel weak. She'd been weak too long. She wasn't the same person, she wasn't Kitten anymore. After all that had happened, after Incognito, and what had happened to Helena, no she wasn't the same. She couldn't be weak.

"It's alright," She whispered. "You're not weak. You'll just have to be stronger next time. We'll both be stronger."

The werewolf growled, but finally he gave a gruff.

"Yea. Stronger."

The devil had not even spared a glance at Integra or Ceres. Instead Astaroth's full attention was on the blood, and he saw the changes in it before it moved again. And yet even as it moved he did not disturb it as it slithered toward the nearest wall. Again it moved like a living thing, but this time as it moved toward the wall and the shadows that were dark and abundant given the harsh candle light. Blood and shadow then mixed and out of that mix step the vampire Alucard.

The devil smiled as he regarded the vampire. The blood sucker's clothing had changed, his smart cut suit and crimson duster had disappeared and now instead he was wearing what very much resembled a straight jacket. It was crimson leather, with black buttons, and its straps rained lose as the vampire gave a slight bow. His face was all alight with amusement, and his eyes glinted with malicious intent.

"Ah, you are strong. I'm glad. It has been so long since I had a good fight."

The devil grinned. He grinned as the vampire grinned, and this had the vampire fangs visible from his mirth.

"You agree then?" Alucard asked.

"Oh, yes little brother. I want to fight. I want you to give me everything you have…"

"Exactly what I had in mind." The vampire laughed.

Alucard's movement was like a single step. That was all that anyone could have seen, and yet suddenly he was standing face to face with Astaroth, his left hand raising and driving forward. That hand tore through flesh like it was wet tissue paper and Alucard's gloved fingers suddenly appeared out of his opponent's back.

The vampire chuckled at the sight.

That was until he felt the beating of the devil's heart slow and then come to an abrupt halt. Alucard's expression was well and truly crestfallen.

"Truly disappointing." He whispered to the corpse.

Grabbing the waste of flesh's shoulder, Alucard gave a sharp and sudden pull, and his left hand slid from the muscle and crushed bone just under the heart. It made a wet sound that instantly made Alucard thirsty, but the Hellsing vampire was many things, but never a scavenger. He didn't feed on the dead, the dying, but not the dead. Especially those with hearts as still as the creature that had died so easily.

"Besides I think I've had more than enough weak blood." The vampire said, vocalizing his thoughts.

"That goes for me as well."

Alucard was caught off guard by the words and in an instant he was surprised as pain tore through his entire right side in a diagonal across his chest. The vampire didn't need to see the damage to know that his foe was alive and well, or to know that the devil had tore at him with that odd right hand of his.

"Playing possum?" Alucard asked, stepping backward, still not bothering to worry about the wound that set his front bloody.

The devil grinned, the wound in his chest still wide. So wide that through the ruined flesh and bone, Alucard could see the bottom of his heart, still round and intact. And just like that it gave a simple beat and then another and another. Following Alucard's gaze, Astaroth chuckled.

"You did so enjoy playing games before…" He ran a hand over his wound and it closed instantly. "I simply thought I play my own game. Did you enjoy it."

Alucard sneered and for a moment is seemed that he wouldn't answer, but then he laughed.

"Oh yes. I did, but enough games. I'll have your heart for my master's sake."

This seemed for all the world to amuse Astaroth very much and a genuine smile of mirth passed over his too beautiful features as he said.

"Then you have only death, for that shall be Integra's only benefit gained through me."

Alucard grimaced at the bold claim and once again he attacked in a blur of speed. The devil reacted likewise, and he captured the gloved hand aimed at this heart in the scale covered monstrosity at his right and crunched the bone as easily as stale crackers. The sound of cracking bone was loud and fierce, the pain was likewise. It was a fierceness that tore up the vampire's appendage and before he could react there was another sharp crack and the vampire's shoulder was shattered like his hand.

Astaroth then released him, and the devil made a slight retreat as he lifted his clawed right hand's finger tips to his lips, lapping at the blood that had come from his earlier attack.

"Perhaps not so weak after all?" He asked, the comment rending at Alucard's sensibilities.

Calling on his regeneration, Alucard healed all of his wounds with a slightly dramatic flare. He glared at the other then, fangs bared, though his voice was still smooth and relaxed.

"No, perhaps not so weak."

The devil grinned.

"You've no idea, but soon, very soon you will."


End file.
